


I've Been Eating (For You)

by Emberglade



Category: Daria (Cartoon)
Genre: Eating Disorders, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 13:52:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18812218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emberglade/pseuds/Emberglade
Summary: Quinn Morgandorffer has everything she could ever want. Boys, clothes, money. Everything, that is, except the dick to come out and the perfect body.





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m just saying, if we want to be ready for prom we should  _ seriously  _ start dropping some carbs. I say, we collectively pick some foods and completely cut them out.”

Quinn’s hands tightened around her magazine in irritation. Sandi had been talking about losing weight and carbs and cardio and  _ everything _ for the past two weeks. This lunch period, her emphasis was solely on  _ carbs _ . She said that word like it was poison. What even  _ were  _ carbs?

Words spilled around her in the smoky cafeteria. Feet squealed on the white linoleum, boys whooped and hollered, and the overall ambiance of teen angst was drowning her. She could barely concentrate on what she was trying to read. And Sandi’s endless word vomit was not helping.

She reread the same paragraph she’d been digesting for the past four minutes, trying to tune out the incessant blabbering of her friends. Though she didn’t care for Sandi’s talk of food and weight, she would be lying if she said it wasn’t bothering her. Since she’d turned sixteen last month, her usual dresses and tighter jeans had been fitting her less and less. She blamed it on hormones and growing into a more ‘womanly’ figure, but she was starting to fall into the idea that maybe it was her weight. Maybe she was a bit ‘pudgy’.

She was sure no one had noticed. After all, she was regularly exercising, and she was bringing just as many boys into her bubble as usual. There was no way it was a considerable change.

The redhead took another bite of her apple, adjusting her head so she could read the next page of her magazine. Of course, it was another article on weight loss. It wasn’t like she was buying them for these exact reasons either. It just appeared that the whole world was so dead set on being slim these days. She absentmindedly traced her eyes over the figure of the model they’d chosen on the spread. She was tall and slender, with thin, tapered legs and arms. She wore a simple black, off the shoulder crop-top and exercise shorts. Her stomach was flat and tan, with a line leading down to her belly button. Quinn admired her long, sleek hair and white teeth, suddenly comparing every aspect of herself to this model.  _ She’s gorgeous…  But nothing I can’t match. _

Quinn moved on to the bold lettering at the top of the article. “How I burned 10 pounds In A Week”. She scoffed. As if. Yet, despite her scrutiny, she kept reading. It was fascinating. So fascinating, in fact, that she missed whatever it was that Tiffany had asked her completely. It was only until a balled up napkin hit her in the chin that she looked up. 

“What?” she asked with only a bite of irritation. Tiffany barely gave her an apologetic look as she repeated her question.

“How much do you weigh, Quinn?”

The Morgendorffer was taken aback by the question. It was something she had never thought about before. She weighed herself on occasion, yeah, but she barely kept track. Everyone at the table looked at her with expectancy. 

“I’m not sure…” she set her magazine aside, disinterested. “Why do you ask?”

“We’re comparing.” Sandi said flippantly. “Stacy’s 124,” she pointed her spoon at the girl in question, who nodded like she was a college student at a lecture, so enamoured by what Sandi was saying that she barely acknowledged Quinn. “Tiffany is 138,” Tiffany herself looked rather embarrassed, though what for Quinn had no idea. She was slim, with a nice figure and good breasts and- The teen shook herself out of those thoughts. That is the  _ last  _ place her brain belonged, smushed between Tiffany’s boobs and her favorite shade of lipgloss. Thankfully, Sandi’s voice brought her back to reality. “And  _ I  _ weigh 119 pounds.” Sandi ate the last spoonful of her yogurt and smiled, pride radiating off of her in waves. She was wearing her weight like a badge, practically.

“That’s… good? I guess?” Quinn didn’t see what was so great about that. Sandi looked like a bag of bones. A pretty one, but a bag of bones nonetheless. Like someone had put some makeup and a cute crop top on her Great Aunt, fresh from the grave.

“Quinn… I think you weigh around 145 pounds.” Sandi stared at her with intense concentration.

Quinn looked down at herself. Did she? She couldn’t remember. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not really… But the girls and I have noticed that you’ve had some trouble squeezing into your jeans lately. If you need to borrow a treadmill or something… You have my number.” Her condescending tone did more to make shame burn in Quinn’s ears and did less to make her angry. She nodded quickly, looking at the back cover of her magazine. 

“I’m not saying you’re  _ fat! _ ” Sandi corrected, though it appeared to be a bit fake. “All I’m saying is that soon you’ll need to replace your wardrobe with things in a size medium.”

Quinn felt panic fill her lungs. “Medium! But they never make anything cute in medium!” 

“Look, Quinn. Just cut out bread, pasta, the likes and eat a few more vegetables. Before you know it, you’ll be the slimmest you’ve ever been! It worked for me.” She smiled, resting on her elbows. 

Quinn stared at the sickly tan table in front of her. Was she getting fat? Her hands instinctively wrapped around her waist. “I’ll think about it. Sandi.” Sandi opened her perfect, tiny mouth as if to say something else, but she was interrupted by the bell. 

Quinn crammed her magazine into her bag and picked up her still full tray, walking away swiftly to dump it in the trash. Usually, she would meander with the girls to her next class, but today she was a little too upset. 

She was walking down the hall, pushing past upperclassmen on her way to biology. But no matter how hard she tried to focus on cute boys or lipstick or literally  _ anything  _ else, her brain kept going back to what Sandi said. Was she getting fat? She felt bigger, like she was taking up too much space. Absentmindedly, she slipped into the bathroom next to her class. 

The Junior closed the swinging door swiftly, sighing with relief. She walked around the corner into the main area of the bathroom, assuming it was empty. She stared at her reflection. Her skin wasn’t clear today, she was getting fat, and now her eyes were watering. Perfect. She looked at herself, examining her body with intense scrutiny. She looked nothing like Stacy. Nothing like the model in her magazine. She looked big. She looked sloppy. 

She was dabbing tears from the corners of her eyes before they could mess up her makeup when she was startled.

“Morgendorffer.” a dull, uninterested voice piped up from behind her. “Fancy seeing you here.” Quinn spun around, shocked. 

Jane Lane stood behind her, leaning on a support between two stall doors. “What’s got your panties in a twist?” She pulled a lighter from her pocket, sparking the cigarette between her fingers. 

Quinn balled up the paper in her hand and tossed it out, picking up her bag. Jane looked her up and down, and Quinn had to resist from reciprocating the action. Instead, she kept her eyes solely fixed on Jane’s cigarette. On her lips. Quinn glared back at her.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” Jane blew a cloud out of the side of her mouth and shrugged. The bell rang, but neither girl moved. “But at the very least, you could say  _ something. _ ” 

“Why are you smoking? Don’t you have class?” Quinn resentfully swung her bag over her shoulder.

“Why are you crying? Don’t you have inane gossip to spread?” Jane retorted, taking another drag. Quinn scrunched her nose, trying not to pay attention to the soft way Jane’s hair fell around her sharp jawline, or the way the corners of her eye’s wrinkled. She jerked away, intending to storm off. She was, to say the least, a little offended, though she wasn’t sure if it was due to Jane’s bluntness, or her own sensitivity. 

“Wait!” A hand was around her wrist in seconds. She looked back at Jane, who’d leaned out of her spot when she’d bolted. “Quinn. I’m- sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. You don’t have to tell me shit.”

Quinn squinted at her. She looked sincere, but Jane Lane apologizing to her of all people was such a rare occurrence, she was sure she’s been dreaming. She relaxed, however, and stood back up straight. Jane smiled at her and put the cigarette back in her mouth. They stared at each other for a long time before Quinn pulled her arm away and Jane stood back up. 

“Well… I better get going… I’m late…” Quinn began to walk away. 

Jane gave her a soldier’s salute. “Later, Morgendorffer.” Quinn nodded. It was only when she was sitting in class that she thought about it.

_ Later… _


	2. Gross feelings are really hard to ignore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't think about it.

The rest of class was a creamy beige blur, drowned out by Quinn's racing mind. She bit her lip for the last two periods for an excessive amount of time, only stopping when she drew blood. Why the fuck did Jane corner her like that? What did she even want? Why did she act as if she gave a flying fuck about her? So maybe Quinn was reading too much into it. Who cared? It was still weird as all hell, being cornered like that. 

It’s not that Quinn  _ disliked  _ Jane. It was just that Jane was boring. And weird. She wasn’t the kind of person you would catch Quinn  _ dead  _ with. Because she was boring and weird. And, as labelled by everyone else, "a goth dyke with anger issues". Pretty girls don't associate with "goth dykes with anger issues". 

But considering what Sandi believed, maybe she wasn't even a pretty girl anymore. 

The bell screeched, shoving all the thoughts out of her brain and onto the floor. Quinn dipped to put her stuff away, cramming pens and papers in her back haphazardly. She wanted to get out as soon as possible. But how to get home? The bus was out, she'd just end up lost and there was no way you'd find her cramming in a sardine can of germs for a four minute drive home. Riding with her parent's meant talking to them, a big no-no, and so did hitching a ride with a gullible boy. She stood in the hallway for a moment, contemplating, before finally resting on an almost tolerable decision. Walking.

She wove through the crowd like a salmon in a stream, pushing silently to the back of the school. If she left through the back entrance, she'd be less likely to run into one of her friends. Ergo: Less likely to be forced into a conversation about being skinny. She popped out of the cold metal doors and into the crisp October air. Her breath billowed around her face, and she scrambled to zip up her pink hoodie. 

Kids pooled around the back, waiting for parents or secret boyfriends. Quinn set off, weaving around them. She set off down the sidewalk, going the long way. Less people.

It was quiet everywhere else in the world, and Quinn listened to the scrape of her shoes on the pavement and the occasional car, still obsessing over lunch and the moments after. 

She was so transfixed on the sidewalk, she barely noticed when she almost ran into someone. Had it not been for the bag between them, she would have knocked her sidewalk partner over.

"Shit! Sorry!" she shuffled to the side to walk around the other person, avoiding eye contact. She just said shit. And sorry. What the fuck.

"Quinn?"  _ double shit.  _

"Daria! Hey!" She drew out the e in hey just a little bit too long. Daria gave her a look, something like 'I am wholly and unapologetically onto your bullshit', but she didn't say a word, only shuffled to the side to give Quinn space next to her. The younger sister took it out of pure obligation. They walked home in silent, their feet scraping the sidewalk in one of the most grating songs she'd ever heard.

An awkward hush spread from the two siblings to the street and neighborhood, making the clomping of heavy boots on concrete even louder. Daria paused and turned without a beat, and Quinn turned to follow her gaze.  _ Triple shit. _ Quinn looked down at the sidewalk, heat bursting from her face to ears. Jane again. It's like she couldn't get away. Quinn knew she shouldn't work herself up about it too much, after all she should have expected to run into Jane at some point, with her being Daria's best friend and all.

The artist caught up with them, slipping between Daria and Quinn with ease. Her hands crammed in the pockets of her dark denim jacket, she turned to Daria and struck up a conversation that she could never dream of being a part of. They were quickly absorbed in their own little world.

Quinn tailed behind them, brain cluttered with thoughts. She watched the way Jane carried herself, so much unapologetic confidence, and she felt her stomach boil. Not with anger, but envy. Her hair fell against her eyes, wind billowing it thickly. 

Her sister's friend was a graceful enigma. So carelessly gorgeous, almost heroin chic. Black hair swept softly against her chin, a tounge piercing slipped in her mouth ever so gently when she spoke. Her eyes were a burning, sharp blue, almost murderous. She made Quinn shake.

But she convinced herself it was just discomfort.

With relative ease, the three made it back to the Morgendorffer household. Quinn instantly went upstairs to her room, tuning out Daria and Jane as they threw themselves on the couch for a round of SickSadWorld. She threw her bag on her bed, moving to the vanity to check her hair. After brushing it, running her fingers through the long locks, she ran her eyes up and down her reflection. Her skinny jeans clung to her legs angrily, and her sweater was a little too form fitting. 

Sandi's words nagged at her. Tossing her brush on the vanity, she crossed the hall to the bathroom. The door shut with a thundering click, making her cringe. Taking off her shoes, Quinn pulled the bathroom scale out from under the soap shelf her mom had bought a few years ago. She pressed on it once with her foot, to see if it would move. The little red line swayed out, and then reverted back to zero. She stepped up.  _137._

That didn't sound bad. But at the same time... She wasn't fitting in her smalls. She kicked the scale back in place.

Leaving the bathroom, Quinn made her way downstairs. Daria was sitting sideways on the couch, knees propped up with her jacket discarded next to her.  Jane lay diagonally across the couch, hands under her head. They talked over the hum of the TV, and Quinn hand to tear her eyes off of the way Jane held herself. So comfortable. She went into the kitchen.

A bunch of bananas lay on the counter, and Quinn tore one off. Bananas were healthy, right?   


She tossed herself on the floor of the living room, watching the television and struggling to keep her eyes away from anyone. She peeled the banana and tore a peice off with her fingers, popping it in her mouth. The carpet pulled roughly and her socked feet.

A hand brushed her hair, making the teen jump. She turned her head. Jane had rolled from her back to her stomach, arm reached out to poke at her. "How long did it take you?"

Quinn swatted her hand away. Daria watched them, she could feel it, so she grit her teeth nd concentrated on lowering her rising blood levels. "How long did what take me?"

Jane scoffed. "The hair. It's so long, it must have taken you eons." Quinn shrugged. 

"I guess." She turned her attention to the TV. The room fell silent, and with the finishing of her banana, she stood up to leave. 

* * *

 

It was later, when she was laying in bed, that Quinn felt it. The quivering of her lip, the guilt blooming from her stomach to her ears. It was sickening. She was sick. And hungry. But Sandi was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish this was longer but wuv


	3. 29.47

Rows of plastic bottles spread themselves out in front of her. Quinn regarded each one with mild fascination. The fluorescent lighting of the drugstore made her head ache a little, especially with the way it reflected off the dull tile, and the air conditioning was turned up too high, but she was sure this would be a quick in-and-out mission.

Or at least, she had thought it would be. She had no clue there were this many diet pills.

There were fat burners, green tea pills, supplements in dark packaging pasted with promises she was sure they couldn’t guarantee. Appetite suppressants. An isle of options. And they were all expensive.

But she was determined to get one. Sandi had been bragging about her loss all week, apparently she was now a lovely 117 pounds. Which meant she was only a few pounds away from her goal. And while Quinn was happy for her, if only because she was happy, the burning shame she felt was hard. She’d always been the thin one. She had no idea when that changed. But she was determined to fix it.

After what felt like hours of looking she picked a simple white bottle of fat burners. She figured these would work the best for her purposes, and they didn’t seem too dangerous. Plus, it wasn’t like she was planning to use these long term, just for a couple of weeks. Just until she was closer to Sandi.

She grabbed a diet coke and strutted up to the counter, trying her best to look confident in her purchase. The ginger felt her pocket to ensure that her crumpled up bills were still there. The cashier, a tired looking middle aged woman, rang her up with a cheerful smile. “Good afternoon! Did you find everything okay?”

Quinn smiled back. “Yep!” 

The woman looked down at her purchase and sighed. “I remember when I was young and skinny,” she sighed wistfully. “That’ll be 29.47.”

Quinn handed her the crumpled bills. “Thanks…” she took her bag and dropped her change in the tip jar, hands shaking. That went better than she thought it would.

“You have a good night now!” The woman called after her.

* * *

She got home just as the sun dipped below the waistline of the horizon. Daria was splayed out on the couch, wearing sweatpants and baggy tee, with a small perma bound book balanced between her fingers. She looked over the edge at Quinn. “You’re home late. Why didn’t you get a ride?”

Quinn scoffed at her, kicking her shoes off at the door and neatly straightening them with her feet and tossing the empty coke bottle in the trash. “I like the walk.”

“We live three miles away from the nearest store.”

“Exactly.” She moved to go upstairs, wanting to get away from everyone before they asked what she bought.

“What’d you even get?” 

“Lipstick.” It just came out, so easily she didn’t even register it as a lie.

“Of course.” Daria turned back to her book, turning the page. Quinn felt her breathing slow down as she trudged the rest of the way upstairs. It was Wednesday, meaning mom wouldn’t be home until 7:30. She tucked the bag under her bed next to her old photo albums and glanced at herself in her full length mirror. She looked the same as she had last week, albeit a bit more tired. Her eyebrows knit in frustration. Why wasn’t her diet working?

Quickly, she snuck to the bathroom and pulled the scale out from its place before stepping on.  _ 135. _ She frowned. If she had lost two pounds, then why did she look the same? How did Sandi look so dramatically different every couple of pounds? And how did she even lose weight that fast?

Frustration wormed around in her throat, but she pushed it aside. She figured she just had to work harder. 

Quinn returned to her room, locking the door behind her. The plastic bag crinkled as she pulled the pill bottle from her bag. She opened it up, catching a whiff of the supplements. They didn’t smell great, but the ginger figured that was a given, seeing as they were still medicine. Medicine for her fat disease. A cure.

She read the back.  _ Always take with food, do not take while vomiting, hydrate, all the normal stuff…  _ She put them back under her bed and sent a quick text to her mom.  _ What’s for dinner? : ) _

In the meantime, she decided to clean her room. The clothes strewn about were starting to drive her mad, and she needed a way to kill time before she could take her new supplement.

* * *

Jane was over again. It seemed like lately, Jane was at the Morgendorrfer’s house every day. Not that Quinn could blame her, when her house was the way it was. But it meant insufferable hours around her. Jane watching her eat. Jane using her bathroom. Jane in a baggy t-shirt and underwear getting a cup of coffee in the morning when everyone else was asleep.

It was hell on Earth. 

Two days after she got her supplement, Quinn was getting a cup of coffee to take it with when Jane came up to her. “Hey.” She reached around the younger girl to get a cup from the cupboard. Quinn shuffled out of her way and pointedly avoided looking at her long arm. She turned around and pressed the pill she was clutching in her mouth, chugging coffee to wash it down before Jane noticed.

The punk didn’t say anything, just poured her own cup. They stood there, both holding their hot drinks and looking a little lost. Quinn wanted to say something, anything, to get this agonizing silence to end, but she couldn’t think of anything. 

“Are you doing okay?”

Quinn smiled. “Yeah, of course.”

More silence. Fuck. Quinn set her cup down. “Well… I’m gonna go… use the bathroom…” she walked away, taking the stairs a little faster than usual so that she could escape whatever hell that was. 

She washed her face with cold water and looked at herself in the mirror. “Get it together, Quinn!” 

Her eyes stared back at her, empty. She looked at the rest of her body. Same old, same old.  _ Might as well weigh myself while I’m up here. _

  1. She’d gained a fucking pound. This was ridiculous. At this point Sandi would be at least 110 pounds. She continued with her morning routine with a surprising lack of enthusiasm. She wasn’t getting anywhere.



She didn’t even have anything to wear that would look good! Contemplating her outfit for the day, she tossed the choices around in front of her wardrobe. Tight fitting was off the table, but so was baggy, seeing as it was sooo out of style. She settled on her regular boot cut jeans with a cute chunky sweater that made her neck and wrists look smaller. Unsatisfied, but running out of time, she grabbed her bag and ran downstairs. 

Since she’d started walking, she’d had to leave earlier and earlier in the morning. Which was fine by her if it meant she didn’t have to talk to her family. She hit the sidewalk, tapping away on her phone as her hot breath evaporated into the chilly october air. At the sound of feet scraping along the sidewalk ahead of her, however, she looked up. Jane was walking by herself, shoulder bag thumping against her legs every step or so. In the faint sunrise, her raven hair shone, and the cold autumn breeze played with the ends of her shorts. Quinn debated whether or not to approach her, but her feet were just a little faster then her head.

She matched pace with the artist. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Where’s Daria?” it would make sense for them to be walking together. Jane had spent the night. Quinn tamped down the little worm of jealousy in her. They were best friends.

“Sleeping like a rock.” Jane shrugged. “And I wanna get there early to work on a painting. Why are you up so early?”

Quinn shrugged. “I just feel like it, I guess.”

They walked in silence. Jane lit up a cigarette and blew clouds into the sky. Quinn watched her slender finger work. They still had remnants of paint on them. 

The redhead had to admit that when you got down to it, Jane was very high fashion. Her slender cheekbones, pointed nose, and almond eyes were cutting, to say the least, and she had the long tapered limbs of models she drooled over in her spare time. 

Not that she ever drooled over Jane. Jane only crossed her thoughts in passing. She meant nothing to Quinn. That’s not to say she wouldn’t be sad if she died. But she wasn’t as invested in her as others. 

They walked into school together, but parted ways at the art room door. Jane smiled at her as the heavy door shut between them, and Quinn felt her head spin. She shook it off as the caffeine. Pretty girls don’t get embarrassed when goth dykes smile at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes i have motivation ig


End file.
